


Cryptid Namimori

by Sawadoot



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: F/M, GAY/LESBIAN SOLIDARITY, Gen, M/M, disciplinary committee kyoko au, tsuna is forced into the committee for best friend bonding time and lesbian wingmanship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-27
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2019-08-08 09:57:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16427204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sawadoot/pseuds/Sawadoot
Summary: Tsuna is continually suffering at the hands of two very enthusiastic cloud guardians and vicious piles of paperwork. So Kusakabe bought him a staple remover too, for all the ones accidentally punched into his sleeve.





	1. Chapter 1

Today the half-withered lawn is trampled by a blur of blue and gray sprinting barefoot down the street muttering, “no, no, no, no, no!” and one would think the neighbors would be used to Sawada’s son clad in a tank top and shorts motion blurring across the pavement but the elderly are usually quite forgetful. Tsunayoshi screams in muted terror at the prefect barreling across the property towards him. Holy fucking  _ shit _ _ ― _

 

“Kyoko, stop, oh my god!” Her squeaky sneakers sound his impending doom as they get louder and louder behind him.

 

“Nope!” His collar jerks, Tsuna nearly gags as his breath exits his lungs in one loud ‘whoosh’ leaving him both winded and scandalized by the person currently dragging him backward by the arm and back to the house. “I already volunteered you! Your literature grades are good enough, and you don’t do anything after-school. You have no choice!” The way Kyoko singsongs his entire fate is so cruel, Tsuna knows better than anyone his best friend can haul up to three times his weight there’s no chance of getting free.

 

“There’s no way that in all of Namimori High there isn’t  _ a handful  _ of people objectively more qualified for the position than I am!” He’s right. Kyoko knows that he is and she’s ignoring him for that purpose. Curse her. “But I trust you; I want you to fill these shoes, not anyone else. Please?” Kyoko shuts the front door behind them with a click, he groans. 

 

“Fiiiiiine. But if my heart attacks are what put me to sleep, then I bequeath you nothing in my will! I am not happy to be committee secretary; I do not like this job.”

 

“Oh? You’re not happy to hang around Hibari-kun?” Kyko dodged his elbow easily, sticking out her tongue. He will never disclose any secrets with her ever again, not as long as he lives. Not even when he’s some lonely ghost pacing the halls of school or some shit like that, “I’m getting a divorce. Takeshi is my new best friend.”

 

“Sad,” Kyoko throws Tsuna’s rumpled dress shirt across the room at him then the slacks and tie. “You’ll never be able to replace that lesbian-shaped hole in your heart when I’m gone.”

 

“I’ll take my chances.”

 

“Shut up and get ready for school.”

 

* * *

  
  


“What are you? A mom? I can open the reception room door just fine!” Despite his protests Kyoko continues to flank his right side, standing a right foot taller over Tsuna as she side eyed him. What a mess. What’s the difference between committee receptionist and unwilling gopher, the title? Kyoko doesn’t budge from her stance, holding the door open wide enough for her best friend to slip through, looking more intimidating with the armband pinned to her sleeve and displeased frown.

 

“Hurry it up; you’re wasting time.” Hibari’s impatient snap is what gets them moving awkwardly at once through the door. It’s a good thing they’re both so skinny if the chairman is annoyed or impressed he makes no indication aside from a raised brow as Kyoko yanks her best friend by the crook of the elbow. Ensuring he has no leeway to escape and gripping a hand on it for extra measure. Out of the corner of her eye if looks could kill Sasagawa would be dead.

 

“Well?” Hibari prompts, looking boredly between the two. If neither starts talking in roughly five point two seconds max they might as well hand over their shins themselves. Kyoko, of course, is much less phased as someone who  _ has self-defense training _ as opposed to someone who lost to a plastic trash can. Which, wasn’t any less terrifying at the time. “You asked me for a recommendation earlier, chairman. And here he is!” Tsuna would swat her finger out of his face if not for the unfortunate curse of temporary petrification as Hibari’s eyes narrow into inspecting slits, picking apart his everything. 

 

Self-reminder number six hundred and seventy-three: Learn to say ‘No’. Mentally noted, shelved, archived.

 

“Doesn’t look promising.” Honestly, fair. He’s so accurate that Tsuna can’t even bring himself to be upset about it. “What makes you feel that you’re cut for  _ management.” _

 

_ “I’m not. I don’t want to be here.” _ is what he intended to say before Kyoko cut him off shortly, snapping his jaw shut with a click. “Tsuna-kun volunteered.”  _ Liar. _ “He’s shy but loves interacting with people. I also think he’s a good person to handle reports, complaints, and morning greetings because he eases people in. And then they don’t expect what’s coming next.” Her last sentence has enough bite to send chills down his spine. So basically a false sense of security for rule-benders so that their beatdown is twelve times more terrifying. Tsuna shivered.

 

Hibari looking thoughtful about the whole deal is what's making everything far worse. When he considers something the answer is likely to be “yes” or “let's see.”

 

“Interesting. Sawada, you have a week to prove yourself worthy of this position in my school. Fail to do so, and I'll bite you dead.” The way his eyes narrow into mean slits has Tsuna's skin crawling and Kyoko looking subtly worried. She should be because she's going to be responsible for the death of her best friend. Tsuna is going to ascend from the grave and haunt her all the days of her life afterward.

 

“Yes, sir.” Tsuna couldn't even look him in the eyes. Only duck his head and nod meekly. Hibari’s gaze performs another quick once-over before turning to Kyoko who immediately snaps attention. “Familiarize the herbivore with his workspace. I'm going to take a nap.”

 

“Heard Hibari!” Kyoko practically leaped through the door with Tsunayoshi in tow by the elbow and swung the door gracefully shut behind them. The clacking noise is echoing like a death toll. Tsuna is going to divorce her.

 

“So, that went well.” She dared to say after three minutes of prolonged silence. “The rest will be a piece of cake!” Kyoko isn't the least bit surprised when Tsuna whirls around on her, looking as if he's just seen a ghost family playing kickball in the hallway. “That is  _ not _ what somebody would call ‘going well’! I'm going to  _ die.”  _

 

She snorted. “Don't be a drama queen, Tsu-kun; you won't die. And even with the rare chance, you do at least it'll be by the hands of a pretty boy?” A sharp jab to the gut. Okay, she deserved that. 

 

“You're right, and I hate you for that.” 

 

Her smug grin lit up the entire disciplinary committee room when they walked in. “Everyone this is Tsunayoshi, starting today he's the new secretary!” All eyes turned towards him inspecting; inhuman hair pointed directly at his face. “Not yet.” Tsuna hissed under his breath, feeling his face go red.

 

The oldest looking prefect seemed to recover within seconds. “We'll be in your care then, Sawada-san. I'm sure Kyo-san has his reasons, let's work hard together.” Oh, god. This must be Kusakabe. They've only talked twice previously, and he's terrifying, to say the least with his tall stature and heavyset face. Regardless, it's impolite not to shake the hand offered to him. 

 

“A pleasure to be working with you.” He drops their hands after a curt shake, feeling more embarrassed than before. Kyoko looks positively villainous.

 

“Now that I've introduced you let's go see your desk! And before you say anything Tsu-kun, I'll know if you run.” Hibari or Kyoko? Which is worse? Currently, they're about even. Judging by the look on Kusakabe's face he's thinking the same thing.

 

The desk in question is a tiny thing near the front of the office looking committee room. Hibari’s influence probably he guesses looking around at all of the plush chairs and the stylish decor. Makes him feel like the receptionist in a waiting room. The tiny desk is lined with various writing mediums, a filing cabinet to the left, and several multiple piles of paper. Squinting Tsuna thinks one may be an appointment sheet and the other a timesheet? He doesn't get much time to ponder it before Kyoko is whisking her away on tour and explaining his tasks from a sheet she'd cleverly printed. 

 

She knows he won't remember shit.

 

It's that inside knowledge that benefits him much in the scheme of introductions to the whole committee and figuring out exactly where each pen is placed. Despite all of her help Tsuna still finds himself lost the next day. A lovely start to his newfound high school career, teetering on the edge of elimination. He won't even get a chance at a real paying job because he'll be submitting his resume from a shallow grave.

 

“Oh man, oh man,” is the constant mantra, unable to stop the thought to mouth function for a bit of anxiety in the far end of the school that he has  _ never dared to venture because there wasn't one time in his wildest dreams he'd imagined becoming  _ **_a part of said committee.”_ ** Fucked over would be the right word for it but unfortunately, that's what happened at his birth. Which one of these rooms happens to be the high reception desk? It's kind of funny that they have a reception room but a disciplinary reception room, just, why?

 

He can figure that out if he ever escapes these endless halls. There's a fifty-percent chance that he won't, and Tsuna is okay with that. 

 

“Did you lose your way?” He nearly jumped out of his skin, sneakers squeaking along the ground deafeningly. Kusakabe looks a lot taller from his spot on the ground, elbow stinging from where he fell on it in his panic. “Uh, yeah?” 

 

To his surprise instead of mocking him, Kusakabe offers a hand. A gesture that doesn't go unthanked. “I guessed as much. The hallways are harder to navigate for regular students; I'll show you a trick.” Tsuna nodded, shifting his eyes in embarrassment and replaying every over the top reaction he's ever committed in his life. “Two doors to the left, and one to the right. That's how you could remember it.” 

 

“Oh, um, thanks…”

 

“You can call me Tetsuya.” Oh!

 

“Then, Tetsuya-san.”

 

Tetsuya's bewildered expression threw him off. “What?” The prefect shook his head, but it couldn't be anything after all. Especially after his quiet “that makes sense,” punctuated a bit of their awkward silence. Tsuna elects to ignore it as all good easy goers do. And he's wise to because the second the initial awkwardness of their situation is out the window the two get along like a house on fire, in the best way of course 

 

Call it intuition or beginners luck but for whatever reason Tsuna ducks. Right on time to see a silver tonfa puncture the air where his head would have been had the murderous aura been so intense. All he can think is oh god. Is this a test or is Hibari angry? “No dallying.” The chairman growls punctuating his words with a firm stomp that Tsuna rolls away from with a sharp gasp. There's no way to avoid a beat down is there?

 

“Kyo-san! Sawada was lost, and I took it upon myself to both supervise him and direct him- eugh!” A sharp kick has Tetsu clutching his stomach, face twisted in obvious pain. 

 

“I didn't ask. But little animals do tend to find themselves easily lost. Good work, Tetsu.” The senior only grunts out an affirmative in between pained breaths. If his stomach weren’t kicked in then, he’d probably be holding up a thumb, a typical ‘Good job, Kyo-san’ gesture that seems to work between the two. Their friendship looks a little painful and Tsuna is perfectly fine with saying no thanks to a similar relationship. Get out of jail free card activate.

 

“Well thank you very much Tetsuya-san! I’ll be sure not to forget again, good afternoon Hibari-san, bye!” He flashed them both his sunniest smile, all but scrambling to get back to the committee room and finish the stack of papers on his desk to which he still isn’t sure how to begin tackling. The smile, albeit wobbly, is his best. And it works, at least he thinks so because no one breaks down the door behind him.

 

Hibari watched him retreat with narrowed eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i changed the fic name from Two Steps bc i found something i like better!

How it came about, they’ll vow silence. Hibari looks like he’s going to burst out laughing like a hyena and if it were not so humiliating then maybe that sort of grin would look almost endearing with his pointy incisors standing out against bared teeth. The way his eyes crinkle upward with amusement, at least, their situation seemed silly enough to make even the chairman laugh. “How did this come about?” Hibari’s voice sounds flat despite the fact he seems to be having a  _ field day. _

 

“Ugh,” Tsuna wants to go home. He wants to lie face down in his pillow and suffocate himself into a state of a coma if it means avoiding this level of humiliation. Only he can’t because  _ Kyoko is stuck to his body via a finger wrap toy.  _ Can he say, what the fuck? It wasn’t as if he were being cooperative either she just waltzed up, stuck it on his finger and jammed her finger on the other end twisting it within a matter of seconds.

 

Why she thought this would be a fun idea is beyond him and his currently very stuck finger. And to make matters worse, she chose precisely two minutes before after-school rundown with the committee chairman about current statistics and duties. Hibari doesn’t accept absences, and Tsuna doesn’t take broken ribs because someone couldn’t wait to trap him until afterward. Once again life is coming in clutch with the full intention of kicking his ass.

 

“Please direct all questions to  _ Sasagawa.” _ He jams a free finger in her direction before turning his head, obviously sulking. “I didn’t think it was going to get stuck!” Kyoko squeaked as Hibari’s attention shifted to her, clearly enjoying every entertaining moment of this predicament. And Tsuna can’t even feel bad about throwing her under the bus this time because he’s so unequivocally pissed.

 

“I’m still waiting for an explanation?” Hibari phrased this as a question, but both were smart enough to know it wasn’t one. It’s a demand for information and possibly more blackmail material goddammit. Sadistic jerk! Tsuna kept his mouth shut in a tight thin line.

 

“My brother gave me this toy we had growing up together. It’s like a finger game―” “I am aware of what it is.” Hibari swiftly cut in to which she continued without skipping a beat. “I got excited and thought Tsuna-kun would like it. He didn’t.”

 

Tsuna scoffed, scraping the rubber sole of his shoe across the leather top of his other one. “Absolutely not.” Hibari makes a sound that sounds like a well-covered laugh, snorting behind his hand and rolling his eyes as he leans back in the  _ plush  _ chair specifically bought as a bribe. (Later he bit that group to death for attempting to do so even though in the end the chair was kept. For “confiscation,” purposes.) Observing the two clumsily walk into the reception room has made his day. Herbivores are stupidly funny.

 

“How did it get stuck?” A fair question. Tsuna would also like to know; he’s ten seconds away from snatching up the nearest pair of scissors and resolving this himself. He’s scanning the room for a couple right now. He doesn’t like the glint in Hibari’s eyes and rightly so. Despite his eternal struggle having a good grasp on the situation would be a better leg to stand on especially facing off against the Hibari Kyoya, local demon prefect and well-oiled fighting machine. Hell, maybe someday he’ll fight a tree. Tsuna wants to keep his bones in place, and if it means sacrificing Kyoko to the chairman’s mercy right now, he’ll take it because he is tired.

 

“She twisted it somehow, actually, I don't know―” A sigh. “I have to pick up my kid from school soon, could I trouble you to go ahead and start the meeting, Hibari-san?” 

 

“You're in no position to be making demands Sawada. But continue.” Easy. Despite the raised brow at ‘my kid’ but in the end, it doesn't matter much. Tsuna couldn't be more grateful for holding his clipboard in one free hand and forcing Kyoko to flip the pages for him as he ran through the daily report.

 

Hibari still looks like he's having a field day.

 

Once all is said and done, and three sticky notes filled with reminders line the clipboard their meeting wrapped up. “Shit! I'm late picking up Futa!” Excusing himself Tsuna all but drags Kyoko by her heels out of the door and down the hallway. They're an interesting pair but they'd better close the door behind themselves next time, or Hibari  _ will _ reprimand them accordingly.

 

“You know, implying that you're a father probably wasn't the best idea.” Kyoko is attempting to remove the toy with her pocket-sized sewing scissors, but it doesn't work with the inpatient pace Tsuna is setting as they march down the street, stuck like glue. 

 

“I  _ am  _ a father.” Tsuna snorts irritably, eyeing her scissors if they stray too close to his finger.

 

“You know what I meant.” 

 

His cheeks wouldn't glow pink if he could help it. “Can we switch subjects please?”

 

“Yeah, yeah.”

* * *

  
  
  


Day four, Hibari-san doesn't seem to be in a good mood. Although, when is he indeed? If one looks at the Hibari Kyoya mood chart, you'll notice the answer is not often as long as there are others around. But today he seems to be in a worse mood than usual and Tsuna wonders if it's something he said unintentionally. And yet when his mind replays every single bit of conversation, they've had over his trial period nothing comes up. It's blank.

 

Maybe he's unreasonably angry? So then why are his eyes glaring holes into the back of Tsuna's brains? He doesn't hope to find out.

 

And he doesn't, at least, for a while. Tsuna manages his classes poorly as usual and spends the after-school period sorting out various complaints that will probably end up in a shredder one way or another. Especially about their chairman's habit of getting physical. He doesn't care about those types of suggestions.

 

Today, he isn't worried about picking Futa up. Mom promised to do that bit, and Kyoko is on her patrol which guarantees she'll return with either blood spackled on her socks or red knuckles. That gives him roughly a half hour to pretend to sort and disassociate for a while. He can already feel his mind wandering to things which may or may not matter, who's to tell? Certainly not he.

 

It's five minutes into the wee dissociation hour or maybe fifty when the door angrily swung open, stopping just short of creating a dent in the wall by ringed fingers. Huh, those aren't part of the dress code. Tsuna grimaces, he's starting to sound like Hibari.

 

There isn't much festering to be done on that topic because hands slam on the desk, startling him out of his unresponsive state with a cringe of fear, another submission of challenge? He'd prefer not to find out because sharp green eyes are accessing him with no amount of subtleness. A bright silver chain stands out against his neck, also not dress code. He tries not to flinch as the student Tsuna is pretty sure he’d never met in his life glares, nose turned down on him. “Who the fuck are you?”

 

That’d be funny if he weren’t terrified. “This is the disciplinary committee room? I’m the secretary, uh, who are you?”

 

“That isn’t important!” The student barks and Tsuna jumps, nerves shot. “Where’s that bastard?!” Which one? Tsuna can think of several in this school starting with Mochida Kensuke and continuing down the list. But seeing as how he’s in the committee room, it must be someone from the committee? It could be Kyoko, but it’s more likely to be Hibari? The student begins shaking him frantically by the shoulder and Tsuna can feel his head spinning, eyes roving in dizzy circles. “Wh―” What can he say? What can he  _ do? _ Does he have no clue what the fuck this kid is talking about?

 

“Excuse me, but what are you talking about?” Tsuna holds a placating grip on the loud kid’s wrist, guiding him to relax his arm and stop fucking making tossed salad out of him. “It could be any bastard at this school. And I don’t think we’ve met.” Forcing oneself to be polite is something he’d unfortunately kept in good practice. Despite that, he’s still shaken if the tremors up his arms have anything to speak of it. Loud guy snatches his wrist away quickly as if he’d burned, honestly looking at Tsuna with renewed observant vigor. 

 

A palm slams down on the table again. “Homeroom teacher Nikaido.” Oh, he’s the transfer student or something like that!

“I wouldn’t know where he is? That’s not a committee receptionist responsibility I’m just here to take complaints and stuff.” Despite his honest words a fist still winds itself impossibly tight into the front collar of his vest and shirt, pulling him closer to the student he vividly remembers as Gokudera, well, now that the initial shock has faded into panic Tsuna does. Gokudera-kun presses his face close, and Tsuna supposes he always did like flowers rather than angels for a casket design. “I think you would because your committee runs every goddamn inch of this school and I doubt you let security fly just like that!” is hissed into his face.

 

Tsuna does his best not to cry out in pain as his stomach hit the desk edge, barely standing on his toes and bent awkwardly over the top. “I’m pretty fucking sure I know what my job entails, Gokudera-kun, l-let me go.” Gokudera doesn’t let go. Tsuna sees black spots dancing behind his eyes from the pressure against his ribs, hurts like hell, and the latex binder is straining too hard.

 

“Bold of you to trespass  _ and _ harass those under my control.” No, no, no― the last thing he needs― Hibari raises both arms, glinting tonfas cutting through the air and the grip on Tsuna’s shirt goes slack. He takes unsteady gulps of air as it all rushed back to him in the sudden realization that he hadn’t been breathing. There’s a strain beneath his chest which will probably end up swelling into a sore line. “Oh, it’s you,” Gokudera grit his teeth. “Buttwipe.”

 

That startled a laugh out of Tsuna.

 

Both heads whipped around to glare at him, and he sank guiltily behind the desk with a small groan. It was so funny though that’s one he hasn’t heard before. He’ll pay for that offense later Tsuna supposes as a cracking noise echoed through the room and an out of place stench of smoke. And he’ll be the one forced to clean all of this up. God, where’s Kyoko for damage control when you need her most? Tsuna wants to go home. Tears prick at the corners of his eyes, yeah, he isn’t strong enough to stop all of the smacks and thumps on the other side of the desk. Eyes squeezed shut; Tsuna covered his ears.

 

And then, the noises stopped. 

 

That could mean worse things. Said things being the fact that Hibari Kyoya, demon prefect and set rule abider (as long as he’s the one making them) is looming over him currently, blood on his face and glaring worse than this morning. What the fuck! Tetsuya-san isn’t going to help, and at this point, Tsuna isn’t sure he could.

 

“Sawada.” His head snaps attention.

 

Hibari’s grin is something feral, hungry, thrilled to a degree of the hunt. Despite the fact Tsuna is cowering the chairman seems oddly pleased, his glare morphing into a look of indifference. “That worked unexpectedly well.” An armband dangled within arms reach. “Welcome to the committee. Don’t make me regret this decision; I’d hate to waste my time.” Oh, holy shit. His status as shark bait has just begun.

A second glance has him quickly nodding, carefully lifting the armband between his fingers, his name is embroidered on it too. What a huge relief it is until a threatening tonfa stops short of his left shoulder. “As for that snicker, I’ll bite you back into your place.”

 

Why had he let Kyoko talk him into this? There’s a half-breathing corpse on the floor, a sweat-soaked binder sticking to his chest, and here comes the biggest beatdown of his life.

 

No, things haven’t changed one bit. Normalcy is oddly comforting.

 

Later Kusakabe adds a new box of band-aids to the reserve first-aid kit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy halloweenie!!!! this mainly focuses on the Mysterious Events Of The School Prefects but like there's also plot romance that slowly develops. wild


	3. 1/2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> intermission half chapter

Tsuna dresses in a half-awake state, he arrived at the school gate one minute before he's due with his dress shirt inside-out and the vest beneath it. So goes the state of his entire day.

 

Bad marks, a couple of falls and one stolen lunch find him hiding out in the gym closet with two mechanical pencils that won't stop falling out of his pants pocket and a bright green one in his hand. Poised over a sketch journal that isn't very good but isn't very bad either. It's just mediocre like him.

 

He doesn't want to face Kyoko who will try to cheer him up or Takeshi who will suggest resolutions that Tsuna doesn't want to think on. Instead, he doodles birds: big ones, small ones, heavy ones, tall ones. And the peculiar bird Hibari keeps finds itself scribbled from page to page. Tsuna calls it ‘Hibird’ behind his back because it's a guarantee that Hibari won't appreciate the namesake. 

 

Hibird likes his hair. It's a personal nest and Tsuna thinks that at least it's good for something rather than continuing to be infuriatingly difficult to maintain. So he doesn't mind doodling Hibirds from cover to cover while the said subject of art is nestled just above where the crown of his head meets the top.

 

And it oddly soothes the sad state of depression he carries. There's reassurance about not sharing with the people around, although, it's a nasty habit that isn't exactly healthy. 

 

Maybe he'll join the transfer kid for an unprompted smoke. It hadn't been visible, but Tsuna had certainly smelled it on him a couple of days prior. The disciplinary committee status makes things so much more complicated, but where there's a will, there's a way. 

 

“Alright, buddy, I don't need any tattling, so it's about time to see how Hibari-san is doing, yeah?” 

 

Hibird chirps indignantly, but a flick of his fingers gets the little bird going, hopping from his head with a squawk and taking off around the storage room as if to hurry Tsuna along. He huffed fondly, twisting the handle gently to crack the door open so Hibird is free to do whatever he does in the afternoon times besides pester him. 

 

Tsuna trips halfway across school grounds. He misses a smear of dirt on his cheek cleaning up. It's probably better to smoke after committee hours anyhow.

 

Only, today is incredibly  _ boring  _ behind the desk filled with nothing but papers and a half-eaten pack of crackers and  _ absolutely nothing of interest to do. _ Tsuna groans to an empty room, save himself.

 

“What're you making that weird noise for, Tsunayoshi?” He shrieks, pushing away from the desk at an inhuman rate and crouching between the chair and the floor, using the counter as a shield. Not that it'd do much good against anyone who was out to get him much less Hibari.

 

Noticeably confused head tilt from just barely peeking over the desk.

 

“...Who the fuck are you?” The words are out of his mouth before he can stop them, not that Tsuna wants to stop them. This is a perfectly valid response to the blue-haired creep leaning over the desk over him. Tsuna frowns. He doesn't remember any students around here looking like  _ that _ because untucked shirts are against school dress and Hibari would have beat their ass for it day  _ numero uno.  _ Talk about creepy.

 

“You've got such a stupid mouth, huh? I'm merely stopping by to ask for guidance to my class. It would seem I'm not entirely sure where it might be.” Creepy guy rests his chin in his palm with what is classified as  _ fake _ worry. He should probably join the drama club or something.

 

“Uh, okay,”  _ You can do this Tsuna, you can handle yet another freaky guy in your personal space. Yep! Just another walk in the park. _ “Which class are you looking for?” Because like, how is Tsuna supposed to know which one? Oh man, he doesn't like that smile at all.

 

“Well you see, I'm rather new here, and I'm not exactly sure where 1-C is you know. I'd rather you show me so that I can memorize the way. Please?” Ha, no way. Mr. Creeps McGee doesn't even look concerned at how creepy his suggestion was right then. Tsuna doesn't want to go anywhere with him. “I'm pretty busy so-”

 

“Isn't it part of your duties to help guide classmates?” Damn you. Curses on all your future children and may you begin middle age balding early! Tsuna sighs heavily, “Yeah, alright, alright, I'll show you where it is.”

 

“Thank you very much,” Weird-eyes says, but he doesn't look like he meant it.

 

Unfortunately, the guy fell into step beside him down the hall and began talking, starting a conversation, ugh. Tsuna pretends to be listening. “My name is Rokudo Mukuro.” Tsuna gives him a polite greeting but not much else because he is currently drained and uncomfortable. Would rather not be here, thanks.

 

He probably should have paid more attention.

 

“What- ?” This isn't the first year hallway? Rokudo steps into the corner of his vision and Tsuna whips around to look at his leering face with a yell. “See you soon, Sawada Tsunayoshi.” 

 

His hand lifted. The world faded into static.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm using what i've written (very little) so far as a half chapter and gateway to update you on the fact im very focused on leaving my stressful household and dealing with a lot. so i wont be updating much at all sorry. i'll do my best to have smth but its very hard to write aaa,, hope u dont mind this bit


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: semi-descript violence, strangulation mentions, hospitals

Something old, something new, something borrowed, something used. An old, broken down bowling alley that smells like dust, mold, and grime. Brand new packages of unidentified content scattered across the scraped up the coffee table— a borrowed committee member, used for bait.

 

Tsuna woke facedown inside a closet of musty coats from fur to leather and miskept. He doesn’t remember much, and that’s probably good at this point because his arms and legs aren’t bound, not even bothered to lock the closet door when he jiggles the handle and suppresses a sneeze as dust flies off the wood.

 

He can take two modes of defense here. Be cautious, and rational to the best of his ability. Or carry on like an idiot. Slipping on the handle and tumbling from the closet decides for Tsuna. Dumbass it is. He’s inside some storage room with marked up boxes and pieces of half broken furniture, lamps, many other odds, and ends. Dumbfounded, his brain moved a mile a minute trying to make sense of anything. There aren’t any answers aside from the color blue; Tsuna can’t recall why the need for that particular color as well but figures it might be a handy reminder to tuck away for later.

 

The first order of business: find out where the fuck this place is.

 

Crawling over many stacks of boxes proves to be a time-consuming challenge, possibly, actually his phone is still in the committee room so of _course_ Tsuna is lost time-wise. He can only guess it’s likely early evening by the faint glow casting shadows on the walls and the sun just a sliver on the horizon, through a dirty, cracked pane.

 

After a few fumbles the second door creaks open, hissing at it for being a large inanimate object, Tsuna took a cautious step out into the hall, and then another, and another, until he’s made it to the end of a long hallway and short-circuiting because he hasn’t a clue where to try next. Something about this place jars his memory, but he’s always been rather bad at remembering things from the get-go so Tsuna can’t quite place a finger on it. This is fine.

 

The building seems to be empty. Looks as in Tsuna is dumb but he isn’t an idiot, and he knows to see is only one perception of reality at least. Iemitsu, the man himself, had long since taught his “wayward” _son_ many a lesson on this. Through force, but his loathing of the man would have to wait until he’s sure he won’t get stabbed like one of those brainless people in The Scream or something which Tsuna watched when he was twelve and didn’t sleep for _weeks_ after witnessing that knives can do more than just cut an oddly formed apple.

 

Something possessed him to keep walking. So he obeyed.

 

Years from now when he thinks back to it there is nothing but relief associated with following ones gut to the end of the hall. If he hadn't then that would be an entirely different story and a rather tragic one at that.

 

The blue-hair guy, Rokudo he suddenly remembers, has the chairman on the floor. Aside from an occasional grunt, there is no sound but the closer Tsuna creeps along the move evident the situation becomes.

 

Mukuro is beating the boy senseless, and for reasons, Tsuna can't understand or rather won't Hibari seems unable to stand up and return the blows for himself. Tsuna is scared, and he can't breathe, and there are noises of suffering everywhere, and he doesn't understand why this is happening. But there's no way anyone could be stronger than Hibari so what chance would he have? He could call the police, but Tsuna suspects his empty pocket means that his phone is snatched up by one of the two kids stalking outside, they don't look very savory either.

 

What would Hibari do? Probably bite them all dead. Tsuna doesn't have that capability! For christ sake he can't even do more than two chin-lifts on the bar, it was counted!

 

But then Rokudo lifts a weapon. It's a classy little thing, looks custom made with its intricate yet odd design and glinting silver spokes. He's almost entranced by it how something so dangerous could also be pretty.

 

Mukuro lifts his arms, aiming the spokes at Hibari’s contempt face, and Tsuna wakes up to the reality of the situation. There isn't time to rely on anyone else even if he is scared shitless!

 

He doesn’t think, he leaped across the room and shoved Rokudo from behind with all his might, sending the other boy stumbling in surprise. The look on his face afterward was enough to terrify Tsuna into action he’d later claim himself not capable of. It was a sneer, predatory and the surprise melted into vicious pleasure. “Oh? I didn’t know you could so much as land a punch, Sawada.”

 

And just like that every bit of rational thought melted into pure instinct. “I can’t,” Tsuna rasped, and then he slid across the floor, wiping out the boy once again by the ankles and they fell together with a grunt in a tangle of limbs, bared teeth, and animalistic shrieks. Mukuro could easily overpower Tsuna in strength, but when the smaller of the two reached out against Mukuro’s chest and pushed as hard as he could, he managed to shrimp away and to roll just out of reach to Mukuro’s grappling hand. Unfortunately, Mukuro scrambled up from the floor at the same time.

 

“You’re just stalling at this point, why don’t you give up trying to be some sort of hero? Say, what would your father think? I think you’re rather fucking irritating,” And that causes Tsuna to hesitate, but only slightly, enough for Mukuro to grab his weapon in one fluid moment and Tsuna to kick wildly, ducking and eventually knocking it from his attacker's hand where it slid over to the well-used sofa.

 

And then Rokudo seized him by the neck. Tsuna’s back hit the sofa arm.

 

“Shit,” He choked out, kicking, scrabbling at the hands around his throat leaving angry red marks that Rokudo hadn’t flinched by, instead he was pressing harder on the base of his windpipe. “Are those your final words?” Mukuro chuckled, and Tsuna whose vision was swimming with spots aimed a hard kick to the thigh. The hands loosened around his neck for just a moment, and Tsuna threw all his body weight toward and over the couch back, landing on the floor with a cry of pain broken by a wheeze as air greedily filled up his lungs.

 

Mukuro was on him in a flash, weapon snatched up and aimed at Tsuna’s throat. The smaller rolled underneath the sofa, narrowly missing a stab to the shoulder with a cry of fear. Shit, shit, shit, there’s no time to think! No time to act rationally! Wake up Hibari-san, please! “Come on, Tsunayoshi, be good and come out you’re quite vital for this project you know.” No way in _hell,_ bastard! Think, come on think!

 

He rolled out from beneath the couch just in time for it flipped over sending wrappers and filthy cushions flying every which way in the aftermath. With his best battle cry, Tsuna launched whatever he could get his hands on at Mukuro who continued to advance closer and closer with little to no problem, his victim scrambling for purchase in which to gain an advantage.

 

“You think I’m just gonna let you kill me?! Dumbass!” Oh, his lungs hurt so badly and the adrenaline outweighs all pain blooming around his neck as Mukuro charges, weapon slashing the air beside him and Tsuna ducks into his chest, knocking the wind out of him and toppling both over once more. His bucking and kicking prove to be lacking. Tsuna punches Mukuro in the jaw, and Mukuro strikes him hard enough across the face to make him see stars as his head collides painfully with the floor, sending white-hot zaps of electricity down his spine.

 

The other boy crawls onto his chest with a triumphant smile, and Tsuna thinks that being stabbed in the forearm isn’t one of the worst things to happen all year. A blur of black and silver proceed the stabbing; he isn’t inside of his own body any longer.

* * *

  


The walls are a strange cream and the ugly monkey curtains of all sorts of bright colors initially hurt, they’re very curious but also in poor taste. He doesn’t have to wonder. Tsuna has been here before, and the smell of antiseptic is no mystery to imply that this is Namimori Hospital. The first thing Tsuna sees when he manages to open his eyes is a cast. It’s enormous, and it’s on his foot raised in the air by a sling, great. His face feels funny, but he can’t see it so what does that matter.

 

Whatever happened to Rokudo Mukuro?

 

The admission has him sitting ramrod straight, “Kyoko?! Hibari-san?!” Oh god, they’re dead, they’re dead, they’re dead! His throat aches so badly that the names come out as more of a hacked up wheeze than words, Nana nearly crushes him into a hug. “Oh, Tsuna! My son, my baby you’re alright! I heard you got into a fight with another little boy down the street, tell me, sweetheart, why would you do that?!”

 

Ow, ow, ow.

 

“I’m sorry,” He tries to say, but he isn’t very sorry after all. Something happened, something that his mind can’t remember but his body does after the memory goes blank and he needs to know that his friends are okay. He needs to know that Kyoko is safe. Nana frets at him, but he refuses to sit still, insisting on something that he can barely say through his swollen throat. And he can’t speak much; the doctor said it’s due to the state of partial strangulation in which he arrived.

 

“You're stupid.” Kyoko places her hands across the hospital bedspread one or two hours later after convincing Nana to indulge in some much-needed rest. Her words hold no bite. She puts her hand on his cheek, running her fingers over one of the plasters carefully, reminding Tsuna of when her older brother would often get himself into ridiculous situations and land here, in a hospital bed.

 

He feels helpless just laying here while Kyoko pushes up his bangs with a sad smile. She's relieved, that much is obvious, but it still makes his bottom lip quiver.

 

“I can't believe you of all people got into a fight,” Kyoko shook her head with a laugh. “You won't even challenge a little dog.”

 

Tsuna may not be able to talk, but he can glare.

 

“The others already miss you, so hurry up and come back soon! You never did fill out that career sheet, it's still on the desk all wrinkled. I expect a full recovery young man!” Smuggled peanut butter cups were a Sawada-Sasagawa tradition as old as time. Or at least since Tsuna was five years old and tripped on a bike pedal and nearly broke his wrist.

 

Kyoko shouldn't see him cry, but she does. A kiss to the forehead, fond “I love you, silly,” as she usually does and she's gone. Headed to school with the other prefects because someone has to keep things in line while Hibari-san is absent and Kyoko is a demon of her own kind.

 

He feels a bit sleepy now, having not only taken a few painkillers and now cried out the brunt of his worries, a severe emotional state that left him exhausted. So slowly he drifts. In and out of many scenarios, did he make the right choice? Was there another possible outcome?

 

He startles his eyes open as the door slams into the far wall, nearly ripping off of its hinges in a dominant display of Tsuna doesn't fucking know, but he's scared.

 

And there, by the doorway, Hibari Kyoya, bandaged from head to toe, absolutely seething. Oh, god.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmao i am,,, sorry? it seems pointless in this chapter but thats just becos the rest hasn't been pulled together yet and i am Tired


	5. Chapter 5

Hibari has two very notable ways of walking. The first is a stalk when patrolling the school halls or the streets nearby because god forbid there be any semblance of crowding inside of  _ his  _ town. When he stalks toward you, that's a definite red flag, and you should probably wise up and stand perfectly still, straight, with your hands folded in a peaceful gesture before you because should you run there's going to be a worse beating when he catches you. Hibari  _ will _ find you.

 

The second is a stroll, head held high in satisfaction. This is usually after Hibari gets what he's after one way or another. And admittedly, he could almost be smiling in those moments, but others have yet to discover which is genuine and which is bloodthirsty, so they're safe to assume both at once. Such comes with defending the Namimori Prefecture. It's a duty paid in full by missing teeth and a respectful head bow through the gates of lined prefects. 

 

Currently, Hibari-san is walk number one. The stalk, causing Tsuna to let out an embarrassing squeak and pull up the sheet of his hospital bed like that will shield his body from any oncoming blows even though it can't also keep the cold out.

 

Too bad there's no video game glitch for him to clip through the floor and reset.

 

No such luck because when he works up the courage to peek over the itchy sheets, he's met with a cold stare and no recollection of what he could have possibly done to make Hibari so angry. Something inside of himself  _ hurts _ as it squirms uncomfortably white-hot.

 

Tsuna opens his mouth.

 

“Stay out of my way,” The words on his tongue die immediately with Hibari's words, confusing as they are he probably means something like he had it all handled. Which he didn't, Tsuna snorts without thinking. He nearly bites his tongue in panic, did Hibari hear that?! Hopefully the fuck  _ not. _

 

A clash of steel reverberating across steel is the terrifying answer as shockwaves of fear ripple up his spine and send Tsuna nearly flying to the right to avoid a particularly nasty swing. In the end, he doesn't ever reply with anything other than screams because being knocked around in rapid succession usually limits vocabulary for casual conversation.

 

Thank god they're already in a hospital.

* * *

  
  
  


He's itchy. There's something just beneath his skin, irritating, and it downright makes him nearly cry in the middle of class when nothing can soothe the burn. Things have been worse lately. 

 

Tsuna can barely walk without running into anything, and he forgets a lot more. His hands shake so badly that what little notes he takes end up being incomprehensible and his grades plummet from a fresh low seventeen to nearly a zero. He can't sleep either.

 

Kyoko attributes it to the trauma of nearly dying. That could be it, but Tsuna doesn't think so.

 

Nana finally takes him to the Doctor on a Tuesday, he's excused from school, and they go to a family practitioner. But they find nothing wrong, no answers to his unexplained weight loss, dizzy spells, or bouts of what feels like manic episodes. And this goddamn itch!

 

They leave the office, Tsuna grumpy, and Nana worried about things out of her hands.

 

Kyoko worries. She twists at her skirt beneath the desk and can't stop tapping her heel even when Hana touches on her knee with a pencil from the desk across. This feels like her fault. It isn't. Tsuna would say that and Kyoko knows deep down he's right.

 

But isn't he just a magnet for bad luck?

 

Ugh, initially she just wanted to spend more time with her best friend, but as it would turn out she's seeing even less of him! And he hasn't chalked up the confidence to show interest in front of Hibari instead of fear but she supposes with him that's a given. 

 

Maybe Haru-chan has some helpful advice for becoming more assertive? Growing up with a loud and very confident older brother made things much easier for her to naturally go about things in her way so Kyoko supposes she can't entirely understand Tsuna’s position as the Committee bait.

 

The whole elaborate scheme backfired. And she never thought it would because who would attack a skinny kid who sits behind the desk and staples papers a majority of the time or hides novels in the left-hand drawer to read after he's bored? Several people, and some psycho from a gang the next town over who had beef with the chairman. So he chose Tsuna as reverse-bait and isn't that just sad.

 

Mental note, teach Tsuna self-defense.

 

He looks terrible which is saying something because he's a natural hot-mess of wild hair and rumpled sleeves and eye-bags. He walked into the same locker this morning and looks close to crying, for once Kyoko is at a loss.

 

She needs inside help but doesn't have it. Haru-chan  _ is _ an option but knowing her, it'd do more harm than good with her elaborate schemes like having Tsuna practice a handstand against the wall until he regains some balance. He didn't. Instead, his body twisted into a U-shape and he nearly snapped his arm.

 

She knows plenty of people. And many of those same people have a low opinion of her best friend which is not at all tolerable she'll have them know especially when they slip up around her, making fun of one of his quirks. Acting like they know exactly how somebody is supposed to be.

 

There is, of course, one person she hasn't asked. They know magic or something. It isn't with tarot cards so actually, Kyoko isn't sure that she knows whether it's magic or not but something about Tsuna is off, and there's this feeling that if it isn't fixed things soon could be dangerous.

 

Even more so than Tsuna nearly stapling his fingers together.

 

She lives in the next town over. Swears up and down she was never the one who attacked Tsuna and Kyoko is at liberty to trust her after all. That's comparability babes! If anyone would know what's going on Kyoko is confident that Nagi would.

 

It's just a matter of getting there, and judging by the rapid succession of hazardous falls it had better be sooner than later.

  
  


The blood rushed to his head. At first, Tsuna thinks he has the flu because he's on the ground, several trash cans looking over and a fuzzy looking hallway. The pain in his gut agrees, but the ache in his left wrist disagrees. Maybe it's all some lucid dream like the ones where his mom is a snake and Iemitsu decides he's a successor to some high-end business. As Hana's (at least he  _ thinks _ that's who it is) disapproving face pops into view, a bit hazy but still bright enough to see her perpetual frown, it doesn't seem like a dream.

 

Everything is heavy. 

 

They’ve established that, maybe, because between his shuddering thoughts of a common cold and possibly having just slipped per usual, someone’s cool hand touches his forehead causing him to whine pitifully. He knows it is; the sound makes his ears pop. It’s cold, teeth chattering cold. Christ, what if this is some poorly contracted sickness due to genetics or fall is coming much faster than Tsuna thought.

 

Right now it’s tough to think, though. 

 

There’s nothing wrong with a little nap.

* * *

  
  
  


Today he met Reborn. Proud, strong, and forcing him into formal wear not even fifteen minutes after introduction sans rudely barging into his room in full stride, terrifying to see a grown man who is also a  _ stranger _ do that nearly making Tsuna piss himself.

 

He's never worn a Kimono. At least, not that he knows of. What the fuck is this for? Reborn doesn't seem at all trustworthy, especially if the smarting hit over his head has anything to say about it. Tsuna doesn't trust adults much and for a good reason. 

 

It's too large like it was tailored for someone else. The hem dragging well past his ankles as Tsuna desperately fought to keep himself from tripping over fabric and his own two feet. The only reassuring part of it all is this man claiming to be his long-lost Uncle from some foreign city Tsuna can’t even remember; the name is so obscure, is that at least he isn’t terrifying enough to show up with exact measurements. It all feels lucid.

 

He’s gotta be kidding. Reborn  _ has _ to be pulling on his leg. There is no such thing as sacred rings or flames with destinies and bonds, and there sure is no fucking thing as a muddled bloodline painted in atrocities that weed him away as the sole heir to control whatever magical organization bullshit.

 

Couldn’t this all wait until Tsuna is forty-two and living inside a cardboard box behind a local convenience store? A little more desperate and willing to go along with… this. Whatever ‘this’ is. Apparently, their family history is rich in elemental magic and deep, dark secrets, if Tsuna wanted to know he would’ve paid Ancestry dot com to figure all of that out.

 

But the magic flames have an agenda, and their schedule is to fucking murder him in his sleep. Finally.

 

“I don’t want to join any cult.” Tsuna says ‘cult’ specifically because it pisses off lost Uncle Strange every single time he relates it in context. And frankly, while a step up from his Father, he's sick and tired of shitty family members invading and taking what they like. “But thanks, Uncle, uh, you?” He’d attempted to close the door. Keyword attempted. But the guy kicks the door swiftly back open causing Tsuna to scream in terror and the hinges to groan. 

 

“Again, not a cult. And for the fifth time, the offer is non-refundable. Let's go Squirt.” Uncle Reborn messing up his hair hasn’t much of an effect considering disaster is its default, but Tsuna grumbles, all the same, going limp as Reborn all but hauls his body out the door. No, no shiny Mercedes Benz sitting outside, no, no pressed suits. His hands drag across the floor wailing all the while like a dying cat.

 

“Noooooooo!” Tsuna ducks a smack, trying desperately to kick his legs free and hit Reborn’s face which doesn’t land anywhere close. “Let me die a homeless man convicted of shoplifting twice beneath a bridge with only the ducks and friendly strangers to offer comfort. When will my husband return from war? He’s missing in action.”

“You’re one weird kid, Sawada.” Reborn’s only words, throwing Tsuna into the shotgun seat of his very,  _ very  _ expensive car that looks like it’s just off the lot. The conveyer belt why stop there? Needless to say, with Tsuna pulling desperately at the locked door and Reborn pressing his forehead to the steering wheel, causing the whole neighborhood to endure five minutes of alarms, their relationship as Uncle and Nephew began horribly.

  
  
  


A couple of weeks, at the bottom of some school stairs Tsuna vaguely recalls that he never did get an answer as to why he’d tromped around town in traditional wear.

 

He wakes up in the hospital, again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you're gay and you can't stay out of the emergency room to save your life clap your hands


	6. Chapter 6

“I want to quit the committee,” It's quiet, resigned. His hands threaded together nervously, medical tape wound methodically over day-old burns. A criss-cross of woven bandages cover his forearms, and the elbow of his left arm. God knows how his Mother will be able to afford the amount of hospital trips he's taken this year. Tsuna doesn't bother nursing his swollen eye. Never trying means never letting others down of course. And he doesn't want to let them down by continuing to function as this walking disaster.

 

Disappointments don't cry, because they've already lost. So, there's nothing to sob about.

 

Kyoko, grave as ever, leans up close- into his personal space and carefully places her hands over his in feather-light touches. Despite her best efforts the action makes his hands sting enough to wince. Her hands shifted to his leg. “Is it because of all these things that happened?” 

 

Tsuna shrugs, looking down at his threaded fingers rather than Kyoko, leaning partway over his hospital bed with a sad expression.

 

“Don't tell me you're running away…”

 

Tsuna’s head snaps up looking impossibly scandalized, “I'm  _ not!” _ He doesn't mean to last out but it sometimes happens under immense pressure and he is not a coward, well maybe, but he doesn't like being told he's running away because something hurts. “I'm sorry, there's a lot going on right now and I don't think- the committee is a wise choice for me.” 

 

Kyoko looks torn between resigned and angry. She doesn't quite know what to do with either if she's honest in the moment. Maybe cry, or shake Tsuna silly for being such an idiot!

 

“What happened?” The only way to get an answer is to persistently chip away at the transparent lies that her best friend likes to think he's actually good at.

 

Tsuna shrugs looking aside to the messy get-well card doodled in crayons with the utmost care. “Tsuna,” There’s a moment for him to reply and stop being such a stubborn ass completely different from the kid who spilled half of his life story the first time they met in fourth grade because she offered him half her lunch in exchange for a bouncy ball. 

 

“Somethings wrong with my body.” Well, yeah. That’s what happens when you’re born in the wrong one. Kyoko gives herself a mental slap. “Oh?” She replies for lack of words but encouraging Tsuna share.

 

“I can’t control it and it feels like there’s something right,” He thumped his chest for emphasis. “Here. It’s in my chest and it hurts but I can’t get rid of it. The doctors are saying they haven’t found anything wrong but how could something  _ not  _ be wrong when I’m throwing myself down staircases by losing consciousness?” Kyoko can’t answer that one.

 

“I can’t keep up with the physical requirements for the committee and this whole kidnapping thing that just happened? That freaked me the fuck out!” Tsuna looks to be barely holding back tears revealing just how shaken the whole situation has him feeling. Classically he’s an over-anxious worrier but Kyoko can’t exactly blame him especially after near death on several occasions. That and the fact there’s no guarantee it won’t happen again.

 

“I’m stepping back, I’m not good at those things anyway.”  _ I’ve never been good at anything.  _ His eyes glazed over, twisting and pulling at the thin hospital blanket beneath his fingers. Kyoko’s mouth is dry and she doesn’t know what to say. What  _ can  _ she say to an irrefutable argument about personal safety. Different tactics have worked over the years and now she’s can’t think of a single one to use. 

 

She groaned, long and exasperated and leaning back on her elbows that began to dig into the mattress and the right leg of her best friend. This is the most infuriating frustratingly difficult part because Kyoko has no patience for insistent incapabilities. She can feel the anger bubbling just on the surface waiting to snap to tell Tsuna to shut the fuck up about being useless in the end it’s a mean nickname their classmates coined on the boy but untrue. 

 

He’s never lived it down, never let it go and Kyoko  _ knows  _ why but impatience tends to get the best of her and these bouts of self-pity and doubt and throes of depression that she can’t beat out of  _ her sky  _ because it’s impossible to do so. Kyoko would destroy all the anxieties and mental illnesses plaguing everyone she cared for if it were physical, become the doctor to cure depression, (there isn’t a cure it’s simply a chemical dysfunction that nobody ought to be blamed for.) She wants to shake Tsuna over and over and over again for giving up entirely before he’s started. 

 

He accepts his failures as his worth dear god if that isn’t enraging enough. 

 

They’ve been friends since they were kids swinging tree branches around in the backyard for vicious duels or catching frogs in the neighbor’s private creek, getting chased off covered in mud and grass and plasters from days prior because neither could keep their balance and Hana wasn’t strong enough to hold either upright. She rarely came to heists, anyway.

 

“How do you know that you aren’t good at any of those things?” Posed as an innocent question Tsuna is less than eager to answer. Tsuna remains stupidly tight-lipped with his arms crossed defensively across his chest looking much like a petulant child. She  _ hates _ when he does this whining act. “Answer me, Tsuna-kun.” 

 

His round eyes always surprise her, the results of a foreigner and Japanese descent creating one wide-eyed kid. The look Tsuna wears right now could be described as big-eyed, his lower lip still sticking out defiantly. “What are you? My mom?”

 

She can’t help but snap out a quick, “no, but someone has to be!” In a clumsy act of swatting at her arm his head reverberates off the bed frame with a painful sounding slam. He’s so accident prone. Kyoko never held back a cackle before and she’s not about to start now, throwing her head back to howl long and loud with laughter as Tsuna smacks at her arm relentlessly red in the face. “Stop itttttttttt! Stop making fun of meeeeeeeeeee!” Groaning into his elbow with one arm and hitting whichever part of Kyoko he can blindly reach with his other. “Can’t help it you always leave yourself wide open Tsuna and who would I be if I didn’t take advantage of every opportunity~!” How do you auction off a best friend online without getting caught?

 

“I’m not talking to you anymore! Buy my lack of silence with a million peanut butter cups!”

 

“ ‘Kay then I’m gonna tell big brother you’re joining the boxing team he’ll be soooo excited!”

 

“NOOOOOOOOOOO! I AM A COWARD I WOULD NOT WILLINGLY DIE THIS WAY! POLICE?! HELLO?” 

 

Kyoko bit her tongue the second their door came flying open only to stop short just before hitting the wall. Suit and tie, smart looking hat, treading on Sasagawa territory, Reborn reeks of outsider. “Chaos.” Of course, dramatic ass. Tipping his fedora Reborn chose to ignore how the girl next to Tsuna has her teeth bared. He already has an interesting collection of elements, that’s good, honestly the report sounded worse. 

 

“Who-“

 

“UGH-“

 

Kyoko and Tsuna open their mouths simultaneously to speak, one throwing himself backward onto the bed and experiencing a harsh repeat of earlier and the other halfway off the bed a sharp look in her usually calm expression. Playing nice doesn’t mean one  _ is nice.  _ There’s no need to act nice to a dangerous adult.

 

“Uncle what’s-your-face, hi,” The silence is palpable. 

 

“You had an uncle like this?!” Kyoko thinks she would remember someone with taste this tacky coming around once or twice, not everybody wears Italian leather brogues and suits not even the hardest working salaryman could afford. He looks like tax and then keep the change. Is this one of those adults that still acts like a teenager because if so Uncle should ditch the hat. “I do  _ now.”  _ Tsuna muttered, suddenly interested counting how many ugly monkeys patterned the curtain. So far an even twenty.

 

“How do you just? Suddenly get an Uncle? Was he adopted or something?” Kyoko brightened. “Did Auntie finally divorce your dad?”  _ I wish. _

 

“No, but she should.” Reborn has never said a decent word up until now, thank god and Jesus, the man knows how to say good things every once in a while! All of them share a contemplative nod. And that’s where things start to go wrong, they all agreed on something together. A bond is formed that Tsuna knows deep down inside he’s going to regret.

 

“Your tacky Uncle isn’t as bad as I thought.” The outrage on Reborn’s face lasted just a moment, he probably didn’t expect to be so thoroughly roasted by a little girl, Tsuna snorted. Kyoko is too busy smacking her fist against her palm to pay any mind. “In fact, he could be useful.”  Now that sounds absolutely awful, how do you escape a hospital?

 

“Oh? Do tell.” Reborn looks amused resting his chin on his hands and tilting his head in an innocent fashion completely unlike his true self. In the two weeks he’s been harassing Tsuna said boy learned he will do a variety of outrageous tasks for shits and giggles. The personal life of a fourteen year old boy better  _ not  _ involve Reborn-type entertainment. It doesn’t take a scientist to figure out they’re scheming pretty quickly.

 

“Tsuna wants to quit the committee!” Kyoko is all poise and innocence, she even managed a few tears. Tsuna is so impressed that he can’t even be mad about her snitching to a relative that would and could make him do almost anything. Like remain in the stuffy office clipping together wanted flyers for the gym teacher who ordered the committee be abolished. To be fair he was new and now he’s no longer a gym teacher due to mysterious injuries.

 

Reborn could never pass up an opportunity to maintain his shitty adult status. “Quitting already? You haven’t even exceeded your trial period yet, Tsuna. I think you’re going to have to try harder than that.”

 

“Why don’t you just tell me you want me to die?” It’s sarcasm, at least, Kyoko sure hopes it is.

 

”Where’s the fun in that?” Tsuna waits in mostly fear for straps to emerge from the hospital bed and strap him down. They don't. Knowing Reborn, the thought isn't very far fetched.

 

”I know  _ just the thing.”  _ Frankly, that sounds terrible, Kyoko is giving him the worried looks again so it might be better than putting up with constant hounding if he agrees. No harm in that? He forgot who Reborn is.

 

At half-past three committee duties begin. Tsuna doesn't show up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im back


	7. Chapter 7

”So… What's all this for again?” Soft-knit mittens cryptically numbered, a cool breeze from the east, or is that north? Tsuna gazed down at a hundred, and three-foot drop near the very top of one of their local forget peaks, all rock with variable scraggly plants. There's no way to survive that sort of fall. There’s a pretty expanse of moss dotting along the cliffside at his feet, under non-threatening circumstances the scenery might be considered relaxing, useful for meditation.

 

“Jump.”

 

Now, a grown adult certainly isn’t goading Tsuna to hurl himself off the edge. He can’t move to stare slack-jawed at estranged Uncle Reborn. The context seems a little, somewhat, a chip off his heart. “Get out. You won’t make the same joke twice.” Kyoko’s voice set in stone, bodily cutting Reborn off from Tsuna despite his towering frame and matching eyes thunderously, her jaw set tense.

 

Somewhere, a dog is baying. Leaves will rustle, and cicadas will cry, the world never stops turning for a moment.

 

“No, not _jump,”_ Reborn crossed his arms irritably. “I mean jump.” Still explains _nothing_ but Reborn seemed to think so, his fedora pulled down over his forehead and cat-slit eyes boring into Kyoko’s equally cold ones. “Where is he supposed to jump?! You better explain.” Her bared teeth come with protecting one’s territory, Tsuna is most certainly a claimed part of it. Tsuna is _her Sky._ Namimori is _her town._ Do good to remember that. Trespassers are no more than leaves beneath the feet of their townsfolk, trampled without thought. Kyoko has Tsuna by the shoulders gripping so hard skin broke in crescent-shaped thumbprints.

 

“This is training from now on. Word has it you’re weak,” Sans left thumb in Tsuna’s direction. “We’re changing that now, kid, catch.” Tsuna fumbles with the prescription bottle against his chest, slipping through butterfingers and lamely falling at his feet in a mild panic, he scoops it up so quickly the pills inside rattle like a bingo wheel. The bottle itself is unmarked, only identifiable with its classic pharmaceutical design; otherwise it would be unrecognized as indigestible. The tablets inside are so small, about five milliliters by the looks of them, and a suspicious half-bled pink.

 

Kyoko’s stance expanded to a more threatening pose. “What are they?” Her finger pointed accusingly at the harmless looking bottle tucked between both Tsuna’s shaking hands, rattling lightly with each movement. “We’re just kids, and it’s a crime to take over the counter drugs from adults we don’t know.” Reborn snarks, pushing up his brim in one smooth swipe, his curls are bouncing from the movement. “And I’m his Uncle, so what’s your excuse? I don’t have much time be quiet, nice guts though.” Explaining to children will take too long, who has the patience for that? Certainly not the world’s most renown Hitman. “Take one,”

 

Kyoko’s fist reverberated solidly off his chest. “Find your _own_ guinea pig. He won’t be taking those.”

 

She’s a spitfire, purple smoke rapidly gathering in her eyes, pouring out her fists in powerful waves that shriek and hiss, calm, posed for a strike. Kyoko is a Technicolor film of every purple hue, and her teeth bared in a display of raw strength. That’s when a puzzle piece clicks in the mind of a seasoned hitman, fumes of his own lit up in display to _‘stand down’_ territorial clouds are a pain. Dealing with staked claims and half-bonds means Tsuna wasn’t sealed before an active flame, so what the fuck was Nono thinking? Even now Reborn can’t feel anything radiating off of Tsuna while Kyoko’s aura rolls like waves on the shoreline. Pre-established bonds? Gross.

 

Not unheard of, just surprising.

 

And then to Reborn’s surprise, Tsuna hastily dry-swallows a pill. A trifle, a tiny capsule round and perfect because now he can do this. A weak fire erupted in Tsuna’s eyes, a flicker in his palms. Reborn can feel his underlying aura now, there’s work to be done, but he’s pleasantly surprised by how strong the resolve within those flames has already become. Tsuna can’t say anything back to Kyoko who nudges him sharply once, concern swirling in rigid features. He’s so, so tired, and terrible at making decisions. The screech of desperation that tore from Kyoko’s throat as his feet left the ground was ungodly. Tsuna’s body doesn’t float. It plummets.

 

His Cloud’s voice echoes over the hillside.

 

Tsuna remembers how to float.

 

“What have you done?! What did you do?!” A fistful of freshly pressed collared shirt couldn’t satisfy her, shaking Reborn dangerously with one hand, the other prepared to claw his beady eyes out. Kyoko tastes bile, her eyes are stinging, and she’s never experienced rage like this before. Hot, anguished, so all-encompassing she feels she will kill this man. This horrible intruder to goad her Sky, to _kill_ her Sky in an unimaginable twist of fate. “What did you _do?!”_ Reborn shoves her away effortlessly, her nails scrape his arms on her descent back into the overgrowth.

 

“Tell me!” She charged again, flying back on her grass-skid knees, wholly desperate for some assurance and she can still _feel_ Tsuna, but she can’t _see_ him. There’s power thrumming through their half-bond, but each beat drags out weaker and weaker, sending her into a tizzy of panic. “For the love of God tell me what you did, it’s the least you can- you could- I _hate_ you!” No matter how many times Reborn knocks her back, she’d stand right up and charge again. And again. And again. “I said, _stop.”_ All commanding Reborn has her by the sleeves of her vest, dangling Kyoko inches off the ground.

 

“Then talk to me! Tell me what those pills did to Tsuna!” White-hot panic is shooting up her veins if her best friend is-

 

“He won’t die. Let go, and I’ll tell you why.” At Reborn’s demand, she wrenches her hands off his tie, shoving them into her pockets much like a petulant child. The second he let go she dropped like a rock. “Explain.” Deja Vu to when this ordeal began. Well, she’s a Cloud after all. _Tsuna would never willingly jump._ “One, he isn’t dead so calm down. Two, he’ll be fine once the initial dose is over.” God, Reborn doesn’t like children. “It’s a drug to awaken his natural birth given strengths; I’ll explain the rest later I need to go find him.” Because the only thing worse than an underdeveloped flame user is a dead underdeveloped flame user, Namimori has a high death toll already no need to add another figure.

 

That’s to say nothing of Reborn’s body count.

 

Kyoko follows his brisk departure in hot pursuit.

 

* * *

  


Tetsuya primarily handles shakedowns and tracking. Today the desk is empty, two names are marked absent from duty, and the mood is terrible. Awful. Wisely, he hasn’t reported anything yet and does his best to make after-school assignments light by assigning someone to the desk for today. That backfires somewhat, not enough for any filed reports. There’s also the issue of filling route since a post doesn’t go unwatched in Hibari’s town. They’re an industrial town with nothing aside from yakuza overflow, but even that much is the natural pace of Namimori.

 

Schools call them delinquents but students and adults alike know that can’t possibly be the case. Not with Hibari Kyoya stalking the streets. Currently, the Chairman, as mentioned earlier, is glaring something awful out the Reception window that overlooks Namimori High’s front gates — looking for stragglers, maybe. Or those who would dare loiter around after classes but having no activities. It’s the big circles of rowdy teens that make Kyoya’s blood pressure skyrocket.

 

Secretly Kusakabe is wondering if today the metaphorical vein will pop.

 

They’re missing three members today — one, excused for being physically unwell enough to fulfill his duties properly. Two never showed up. This sort of behavior can occasionally be exhibited from Sasagawa, one of the missing members, who will push the limits often to see how tight the leash can become or in a fit of control. They grasp straws on how both clouds tolerate each other. (Possibly because of their unspoken agreement that Sasagawa can second Hibari's territory as overseer.) Some days though enthusiastic about her duties, she will not show up jokingly.

 

They’re missing Sawada, too. His history of absence is quite long. Keeping tabs on their district is a solemn duty that Tetsuya takes very seriously. After all, knowing the inside-outs of your territory is a given.

 

For their sakes, he hopes the two report in soon. There’s only so many times one of their seasoned members can pretend to look busy while pouring over the same sheet of paper for hours. The poor guy can’t even process letters at this point. It isn’t one of Sasagawa’s reporting days at least. But the reports, if someone other than Sawada enters with them, then Kyo-san will _know,_ and Tetsuya hasn’t been able to come up with an excuse all day.

 

Sleeves go unstapled.

 

“What’s taking so long?” It’s a single minute past due time for Sawada-kun to step his anxious little body into the room and shakily read off updates before making a fresh cup of green tea. Three minutes pass, call or something at least, oh god.

 

Twenty minutes have passed, and secretary substitute is loudly reading off today’s events as well as a surprisingly low number of incidents. The way Kyo-san is dragging his fingers across the desk suggests he isn’t pleased. It probably isn’t about the report but rule one of Disciplinary Committee is to mind your own goddamn business regarding internal affairs. Wisely, the sub only says what’s needed the bare minimum. He would lose his life otherwise.

 

They're reaching the point of no return, edging on forty minutes no sign of Sasagawa nor Sawada. It isn't often that Kusakabe is anxious for other members, but due to the last brawl, Kyoya is in an extraordinarily bad mood. Purple aura coming off of him in jagged whisps. Cool.

 

The door slams open so fervently that it slams against the wall. Hibari visibly twitches, not a good sign. ”What?” At the snap in the chairman’s voice, one of their members stops worrying over the door and snaps upward, forehead slicked with sweat. ”There’s a brawl outside the school entrance, its severe, ” The poor guy can hardly catch his breath bent over by the waist, fingers digging into his dark-stained gakuran over his heart. His perfectly styled hair was falling apart at the ends in little strands.

 

Might as well work on damage control, the gleam in Kyo-san’s eyes guarantees they'll need it.

* * *

  
  


”Excuse you; I am ONE THOUSAND YEARS OLD!” Tsuna’s voice carries over the hillside as he tears the coffee cup rim to shreds with his teeth. ”I have seen climate change and the waters part and fuck off! I am older than you will _ever_ be!” There's an orange flame flickering on his forehead and a sunken look in his eyes. Kyoko let him continue to massacre the cup in stunned silence.

 

By the look, Reborn gave her it would seem he's taken aback as well. Bits of paper continues to catch the breeze, landing at their feet in tandem. The beginning of a migraine is coming on.

 

Luckily they found Tsuna hovering upside-down a few hundred feet left of the drop, except he wouldn't stop claiming to be a deity of many years and exceptional skill. That would be more convincing if he weren’t still in the same position completely red in the face because all of the blood is slowly making its way into his head. Tsuna crossed his arms, “I am! I ammmmmmmm!” All the while Kyoko is coaxing him to “just grab onto the goddamn stick geez,” waving a large branch in hopes he’ll take the initiative so she can haul him to safety and reverse possible brain damage from blood flow, Reborn isn’t doing anything, and she can’t say she’s surprised.

 

“You know what,” She doesn’t need any help. “What are you doing?” Kyoko never answers Reborn as she concentrated on shimmying up the few boulders that jut out in their direction. Her skirt keeps snagging.

 

“What are you doing?” He repeated.

 

“Countermeasures.” With a feral cry, Kyoko launched her entire body off the jagged cliffside, arms and legs spread in a primitive pounce. Tsuna plummets an extra six feet. He can’t breathe. Scrabbling up his back, now that she’s locked in a baby koala position, Kyoko is determined to make him plummet more than just six. Reborn thinks he might lose his shit. What kind of kids does the town of Namimori raise?

 

Two idiots hover in the air on a gravity-defying piggyback ride.

 

“Now,” She smacks him across the shoulders. “Stop-” The bright orange flame flickered out, “huh?” Muses Tsuna. “Huh?” Kyoko echoes. They drop like rocks. Both their screams carry over the hillside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it looks out of order now but you'll see >:)

**Author's Note:**

> i've been meaning to post this for a while! i don't have much time but all i can say is expect more Soon


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